


No Substitute

by JackieSBlake7



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 11:09:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7219975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackieSBlake7/pseuds/JackieSBlake7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blake  learns what Avon is prepared to do for him</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Substitute

Blake drifted to muzzy wakefulness, aware of the taste of painkillers and a fading anaesthetic. He would allow himself a few moments before he would remember what injuries he had and how he had come by them. The familiar hum told him he was still in the Gauda Prime base, and he deduced he was in the med unit.  
He heard the door open and someone take a couple of paces to one of the beds nearer the door – it had been decided long ago that Blake would be put in one of the further beds for the marginal extra security provided – and a soft exchange. Both voices were half-familiar, and Blake did not try and resolve what was being said until there was mention of the Federation, and the take-over. After all his systems of security, checks had the place been overrun?  
With that thought Blake returned to full awareness, tried to sit up and regretted it. He was not able to see who was in and next to the other occupied bed before he had to lie down again.  
‘Back in the land of the living then,’ another almost forgotten voice on his other side said.  
Blake turned to see who it was. The medicaments muted his surprise, but not his pleasure. ‘Vila! What are you doing here? Who’s taken over?’  
‘A long story Blake,’ Vila replied. He waved at the table beside him, which Orac was precariously sharing with a viscast receiver, ‘and the rat in a box is being more uncommunicative than usual. Everybody now on the base’s on our side. We managed to keep the Space Rats and all their friends away from this place – “exploring” Federation military bases elsewhere were more to their taste. Not that they weren’t happy to join in the general mayhem of course.’  
‘Space Rats? General mayhem? What is going on?’ Blake associated Space Rats with the phrase “general nuisance.”  
Vila looked at his watch. ‘Time for the news,’ he said, and turned the sound up on the viscast: the familiar jingle died away – but the voices and the contents were the reverse of the usual anodyne pap. As Blake listened he realised that the revolution had finally started – without him. Somehow, he knew it was connected to the now-fully recalled encounter with Avon, and Vila’s presence. Where was Avon?  
’We’re winning,’ Blake said when the news finished. Vila switched the viscast receiver off before putting it on the floor and moving Orac to a more central position on the table.  
‘We?’ Vila said, ‘It’s Avon’s achievement, if anybody’s. As for winning – what happens now is anybody’s guess.’  
Orac suddenly flickered into life. ‘It was merely an idea whose time had come. Avon was merely the first person to understand the principle, and then try to act upon it. Successfully.’  
‘No doubt with your help Orac,’ Blake replied.  
‘Naturally. It was one of the few tasks that I have been set that made appropriate use of what I could offer…’  
‘Thank you Orac,’ Blake said, remembering the computer’s tendency for long explanations, ‘and you may have noticed that in history being considered the person who initiates the idea when it is wanted is sometimes what counts – even if others make it succeed in practice.’  
‘Yes. I have much to do. Do not disturb me with trivial comments.’ Orac went into “quiet” mode, with only the occasional light flickering.  
‘Vila – what have you been doing, and what is going on now? What’s been going on? What’s Avon done?’  
‘To cut a very long story short, we spent the last two or so years exploring – some of it was even interesting – working with the rebellion and looking for you.’ There was some bitterness on the last part of the remark.  
‘I’m sorry, Vila. I should have got in touch,’ Blake replied. But how could he explain what had happened, after the Andromedan War? Having been invited to help a locally successful rebellion Blake had realised he was not suited to the administration of a new regime, for all his skill and ability in encouraging and setting such things up and in negotiating. And he had then become aware of conditioning suddenly activating – he could rebel but not lead a revolution. Vila would understand the conditioning more than most – but they would not discuss it yet. ‘At first it was too difficult to get in touch, and then it got harder and harder to explain why I had not done so already. Can you understand that?’  
‘Yes, sort of,’ Vila admitted, ‘All you had to do was to send a message using the code words agreed with Zen or Orac and say that you had decided to follow your own path, rather than continuing to miss each other and that we’d confuse the Federation separately. We’d have accepted that – you could have told Orac not to give us your last contact point. A few little words – whatever you decided to do in reality. Even Avon would have accepted it – and he was your most loyal supporter.’  
‘Avon – loyal supporter?’ Blake let disbelief enter his voice, although he knew Vila was speaking the truth. Where was Avon? Though Blake could understand Avon would want more information before another meeting.  
‘Not many people told Avon they trusted him. He could understand your being loyal to a cause – and he even approved of some of it. And then you led him to think you betrayed him.’  
‘What? _He_ shot _me_ Vila. I can understand him feeling upset by my not coming back or making contact, but _betrayal_ l?’  
‘Sorry – you don’t know the full story do you?’ Vila said with a hint of apology, ‘When we met up you could’ve said almost anything and he’d’ve still shot you. You weren’t the only person to “set everything up” – there was Avon with his plan and “Commissioner Sleer” with hers, and everybody ended up operating completely at cross purposes.’  
‘Start from the beginning Vila – like Tarrant I don’t understand. What plans? What betrayal? How do you know of Commissioner Sleer?’ Vila normally had a knack with getting his alibis organised – so something very peculiar was going on in fact.  
‘We came here – and found you were seemingly a bounty hunter. Not quite what we would expect, you must admit – though we suspected it might be a double bluff. And, coming in,’ Vila indicated Orac, ‘we intercepted an encoded message from a Commissioner Sleer to you lot, saying she was ready to come to the base. That threw us all, Avon especially. He had set his plan into action and was getting the first replies – not that the rest of us fully understood what was going on of course – Avon said he was going to explain when we were all together – and you appeared to be confounding it.’  
‘Commissioner Sleer got in touch with us a while ago and wanted to help our cause by working from within. She was about to provide us with a way of getting back to Earth. She wasn’t what she claimed to be then?’ Avon and his plan could wait for a few moments.  
Vila grimaced. ‘Dead right – and you might have ended up on Earth, alright, but dead. You yourself hadn’t met her, or had direct contact, had you?’  
Blake knew he was not going to like the answer. ‘No, but some of my group were about to bring her to the base…’ He had decided to wait for Avon and his group to come to the base before Sleer joined them. ‘So who #is# Commissioner Sleer?’  
‘Our old friend Servalan “reincarnated” after being prematurely declared dead. You’d’ve been her passport back to power.’  
Blake finally found a reason to use all his more interesting swearwords. ‘Where is she now?’ he asked finally.  
‘She’s not been picked up – so she must’ve decided to vanish as soon as she realised what was going on – or appeared to be going on.’  
Something Vila had said came back to Blake. ‘You used the past tense in referring to Avon…’ No, not this seeming victory with Avon not knowing the truth.  
‘He survived what happened – just.’ Vila indicated the other bed again, and Blake finally understood. He tried to sit up again, successfully this time and now recognised Avon in the other bed.  
‘What happened – what did he do? What was the plan?’ Blake asked, while he regained his sense of balance.  
‘Everything that you said you would do and more,’ Vila replied, and collected his thoughts for a few moments. ‘I am simplifying a very complex series of events, you understand – which we’ve had to piece together. Perhaps it all started when Servalan told us on Terminal that you were dead.’  
‘And you believed her?’ Blake tried to recall where and what he had heard of Terminal.  
‘For all we’d heard from you she could’ve been telling the truth.’ Again the bitter edge to Vila’s voice. Blake wondered what had happened for someone as easy-going as Vila to react like this. He should have got in touch at some point.  
‘Can we stop the accusations – whatever the justification.’  
Vila nodded. ‘Well, after Terminal, Avon finally decided that he would have to do things for himself. He arranged, organised whatever you care to call it, everything and was at his most secretive when he was setting it up – some of the things he did only make sense now. He didn’t always make the best decisions, and perhaps if he’d been a bit more willing to discuss his plan, it’d’ve worked out easier – for him, and, perhaps us. Not that pushing himself to the limit, especially towards the end, helped.’  
Perhaps, Blake thought, we needed both each other’s skills to work at our best. ‘So what plan did he concoct?’  
‘Avon knew he would not be an effective or charismatic rebel leader, a name around which to rally the rebels – give him information to organise any day – your skill, his skill. He decided to use his organisational abilities to get the rebellion – and anybody else who wished to join in – to work and achieve the goal without him leading it.’  
‘Which was where the Space Rats and whoever came in?’ Blake hazarded.  
‘Yes – they were told that there was going to be some mayhem going on, and they were welcome to join in, no strings attached. But they are doing their own thing – and it wasn’t us who invited them. Some of the Space Rats do not care for us. We … appropriated something which they could’ve argued was theirs.’  
‘They tend to invite themselves when they see an advantage.’ Blake had remembered more details about them.  
Vila nodded. ‘Well – Avon realised that as most of the rebel groups were only local, fighting their own specific battles, against the Federation, the best thing would be to alter the nature of the rebellion. Whatever it claims the Federation’s military resources are limited – partially because of the Andromedan War – and he judged it might be possible to overload it. The idea was to have all the rebel groups stage their own local battles at the same time, knowing what was appropriate for them, so the Federation’s forces would be divided into small sections with no back up, and so conquered – and the Space Rats, Scalarians, and all and sundry would confuse the Federation further. The idea was that simple, but the practicalities were far more complex. It was a scheme in which everything could be placed, all the stratagems which would be locally successful rather than a single organisation and a plan – so the Federation could not devise a successful counter strategy to face what they encountered. Though Avon and Orac here were responsible for linking everything up of course, and did give some help.’ Orac flickered briefly in acknowledgement. ‘You were presented as the focal point.’  
‘We heard echoes of the negotiations for some of what was going on. I thought they were just using Avon’s name to give them credibility and because they were aware that I knew him.’ Looking back, Blake realised it had the hallmarks of Avon’s planning. The idea was as simple and clever as Vila said it was. Like the Federation, Blake had assumed there would be a more co-ordinated structure to a general rebellion. And he had expected that he would be more involved in whatever happened. ‘And everything was about to happen as you came to Gauda Prime to link up with me and my group?’  
‘Yes. The whole circus was also timed to give the Regional Governors something interesting to talk about at their current meeting. Which they are doing – along with the usual back-stabbing and negotiations for power at such events. Another load of opportunists taking advantage of the general free for all. And most of the military have decided to support those who look as if they are going to be the new paymasters. Not bribed, mind, but money is money, and they’d rather not fight on the losing side.’ That too Blake could understand.  
‘A hell of a job to sort out afterwards.’ But, Blake thought, I never came up with anything better, conditioning apart. I came here to Gauda Prime to try and resolve the conditioning, as well as see what I could organise.  
‘So what? Even someone with as little interest in politics as me can see that the linking up’d break up as soon as it had achieved its immediate aim. What do Regional Governors, rebels and Space Rats normally have to do with each other? By the time it sorts itself out some of the worst aspects of the Federation’ll have gone. It’s been fairly quick to get to this stage,’ Vila indicated the viscast unit, ‘which probably means it’s been less unpleasant than it might have been.’  
‘You’re not as stupid as you sometimes try to make out.’ Blake regretted the way the remark sounded as soon as he had made it – it did not have the teasing tone he would have once managed.  
‘Define stupidity,’ Orac asked, suddenly reviving. ‘Vila is successful at what he chooses to do – and keeping out of the way of others is a well-established survival tactic. He has given a succinct description of what has occurred.’  
‘What are you after Orac, flattering me like that?’ Vila asked.  
‘I am not “after” anything.’  
Blake smiled. ‘When will you have your next request for us to go on an expedition to somewhere outside the overview of computers for you Orac?’ One of its pursuits from the old days.  
‘When the groups are in a position to do so.’  
Blake returned to Vila. ‘How did the Federation take-over of Gauda Prime fit into Avon’s plans, and what is my role supposed to be in everything? Why did Avon shoot me? Did he see me as Servalan’s dupe?’  
‘Unlike Orac I can only deal with one question at a time,’ Vila protested. ‘Well you are the one rebel nearly everybody knows about, yes?’ Blake nodded. ‘What Avon was planning for the Federation, and what the Federation were planning for Gauda Prime were two entirely separate things which happened to get tangled together. The Federation did not know you were here.’ Apart from Servalan that was, it seemed.  
‘Which was the whole point of the exercise.’ Blake admitted.  
‘Orac had discovered you were here, and deciphered the Federation plans. Avon wanted us to be here ahead of the Federation – the rest of us thought we were coming mainly to rescue you and your friends. But – as usual, invasions and revolutions seldom run entirely to plan. The Federation forces were coming in supposedly to restore order and their law, and wanted a suitable bunch of “undesirables” to provide a show trial. A group of bounty hunters would do as well as any – they could make use of information on your computers, and dispose of some potential inconveniences at the same time. They were using stun guns, and Avon appropriated one – he wanted you out of the line of fire until the rebels joining up with us could dispose of the Federation lot. Not that he realised the damage they could do at point blank range. Very messy. You should’ve keeled over after the first one.’  
‘As a “bounty hunter” I was wearing some protection – others have wished to shoot me before now.’ Blake laughed bitterly. ‘Ironic – the most wanted person on the Federation list, to be dealt with as an anonymous bounty hunter.’  
‘Bayban the Butcher was most annoyed at that placement you know – felt you’d usurped the position he’d rightfully earned,’ Vila said. Another story Blake would have to be told. ‘Anyway, the Federation lot coming in didn’t expect us, or the other rebels, to appear – and Orac blocked their communications and monitoring so they didn’t know who was behind them. Only Avon had any idea of the whole act – the Federation forces didn’t stand a chance, didn’t know what hit them, here or anywhere else for that matter.’ The viscast unit came up with a “newsflash” about somewhere Blake had never heard of before.  
One of the two people by Avon’s bed looked up, and Blake recognised Del Grant.  
‘As soon as he wakes I want to talk to him, and tell him I fully understand about everything,’ Grant called out to his companion as he joined Vila and Blake. ‘You’re awake, Blake. How are you?’  
‘I’ll survive – how’s Avon?’ Blake replied.  
‘As is to be expected after what six, eight shots from a stun gun, on top of everything else,’ Grant said. Blake suddenly felt sick at the realisation of what Avon had been prepared to do for him. ‘It was all a matter of split second timing in the tracking gallery – he was trying to protect you until the reinforcements came. We got there as the troopers fired – Servalan was somehow involved.’  
‘And I seemingly gave him sufficient reason to feel I’d betrayed him.’ Which, Blake knew, he would always regret.  
‘Servalan’s very clever in her own way. She didn’t rise to the top merely by her connections.’  
‘I should have known something was not quite right.’ Blake got to his feet: the physical damage inflicted by the stun gun shots was limited. ‘I want to see him.’ He managed to cross the room without Vila and Grant’s help.  
Blake recognised the young man sitting beside the still unconscious Avon.  
‘I owe you an apology,’ Tarrant said.  
‘I had to impose tests you understand – and a group I was with was ill served by another Tarrant many years ago.’ What had become of Dev Tarrant, and was there any connection? ‘Recovering from your injuries?’  
‘Yes. We’ve all encountered trickery, hostility and friendship where we least expect it. And,’ Tarrant added, ‘we never expected Avon to risk everything for a dream.’  
‘Nor did I.’ Blake looked down at Avon – peaceful now, but gaunt and with traces of a harsh past. ‘I think I understand why Avon reacted as he did. And I will tell him that when he wakes.’ And how will I apologise to Avon for the greater betrayal – that I do not think I can do what he wants me to do? But whatever I do, I will betray many dreams. Avon took over my role when he thought I was dead – can I persuade him to do so now? As I remember him he would take it on, whatever the cost – but would it be fair to him? From what I remember of him, though, he would come up with some solution.  
‘It’s much more complicated than that,’ Vila said. ‘As it always is.’  
Deva rushed in, excited, grinned as he saw Blake was up.  
‘Blake – the rebels’ve taken control on Earth. They’re offering you the Presidency.’ Blake sat down suddenly on a convenient chair. Was this also part of Avon’s plan? Over Star One his stated intention was to take Blake to Earth and then follow his own path – but how far would he have helped Blake then?  
‘Get everything confirmed, and if it is true, say that I will consider the matter.’ Deva went off again. At last, Blake thought, Deva will get his long desired chance to see Earth. And I will accept what I have been offered, to start with, regardless of my personal feelings – even though someone else might make a better job of it. Admit it Avon deserves it for what he has done. He is the true revolutionary.  
However – I may well grow used to the idea, as I did to the opportunities provided by the Liberator. Conditioning can be undone. Then a treacherous thought – I have some time before all the issues have been resolved, before I finally have to accept, and I do not have to commit myself to the full term. I can always say from the outset that I will only do it for six months or so and leave – nobody will find fault with that. I would probably be a transitional President anyway, and best to go gracefully and be praised for that. That would not be a betrayal of anything or anybody – Avon would understand. I can be very good at convincing myself.

Gauda Prime was some distance from Earth, and much of the journey was taken up with explanations of events since Blake had left the Liberator, and the continuing negotiations to put the revolution on a firmer basis. While a number of regional groupings with the freedom Blake had been fighting for emerged with some rapidity, and others were prepared to accept “what worked and resulted in least annoyance to the rulers from the general population” transforming the central system proved more difficult. Destroying the old regime had proved much easier than everybody expected, but few had any idea of what should come in its place. It was the senior ranks, in the civil and military administrations who were the problem – most of them wishing to retain the established ways, and enjoy the fruits of their rapid rise after the destruction of the Andromedan war. Those at lower levels were, as both Vila and Avon separately remarked, prepared to remain loyal to the providers of their paychecks.  
Another problem was Servalan. “Commissioner Sleer” had disappeared entirely – even with Orac’s searching very little information surfaced. There was some evidence that her supporters were also disappearing – and only some of them turned up dead.  
Blake found he was enjoying this period of negotiations and organising, and hoped that he would be remembered for what he was doing now. When he had previously thought about what would happen after the rebellion against the Federation had succeeded he had planned as far as this stage – perhaps even then had realised that this was where his skills would be most in use – not what would happen afterwards. That he would be made President – despite the conditioning that made him stall on occasion – was almost taken for granted by everybody else. He recognised that part of what he felt was merely the sadness on finding a dream achieved, without having a new one to replace it – and he was not certain he would be able to live up to the expectations placed on him, his own or anybody else’s. As Blake had expected Avon and Deva were getting on well together – they were talking shop on most of the occasions Blake saw them together, while the rest of their friends were making their own plans.  
But it was not as easy as Blake had first thought to make the announcement that he would be a short term President, even to Avon. Blake did not want to commit himself too firmly ahead of time, even though he knew Avon would have respected the decision if it was stated in an acceptable form. Instead Blake found he was niggling Avon and the others, almost trying to drive them away – perhaps this was part of the conditioning as well. Whatever treatment he had against the conditioning, some of the effects of what had been done to him would persist regardless, and made it difficult for him to consider his transit into office with any peace of mind.

****

So now Blake faced the inauguration ceremony and an uncertain future. A few months until everything had “settled down” – and then what? His friends would have left, pursuing their own various interests, his ambitions would have been achieved, and he would have the rest of his life to look back on the few months of the Freedom Party, his years as a rebel, this time negotiating the transition, and however long he remained as President: potential future leaders were already emerging. Beware of what you wish for, as the saying went, because it may come true – and then what will you do? Still, Servalan was lurking in the background – she might re-emerge, and provide him with the same challenge that he had done for her. And there would always be disputes to settle.  
As the countdown to the inauguration approached Blake felt a sense of panic, did not know whether he could stand being in office for even a few months, let alone a full term. How much of it was the effects of conditioning, rather than mere uncertainty, he was not certain. Perhaps, he decided, what he actually needed was some time to himself to think – a holiday even. He asked Avon to come for a meeting, and explained.  
‘No, I won’t take over the Presidency, however briefly,’ Avon said without being asked. ‘I have done what I intended for your rebellion, and I have had enough of the gratitude that keeps being foisted on me.’ He said this with slight amusement as well as irritation. He had become a hero, his strategy in bringing down the Federation applauded and analysed in extensive detail, and he was not certain whether he cared for the attention. That Blake could understand too – and his stated intention to go and explore – his intention almost from the beginning of his time on the Liberator.  
‘I think you might make a good President.’ Avon shrugged at the compliment. ‘Will you at least keep a look out for Servalan for me?’  
‘I have no reason to love Servalan.’ Though he had admitted finding her physically attractive, enjoying the challenge she presented, and acknowledged her desire for him. ‘But there are as many claimed sightings of her and as little substance in them as of you after Star One.’  
‘Avon – I don’t know how long I can stick being President. It’s more than the conditioning – which I am fighting.’ Blake had not meant to say what he intended like that, but there was no going back.  
‘Rather late in the day to decide you want to do something else. Don’t expect me to sort everything out again.’ Avon – though he obviously understood what Blake was going through – was understandably resentful, and his fleeting expression reminded Blake of the confrontation on Gauda Prime. ‘Why are you continuing with this charade?’  
‘I thought the enthusiasm for the job would come, and the conditioning could be overridden. So much was riding on me, I could not see a way out – and no immediate alternative candidate for the office appeared.’ Some were emerging for the longer term, jockeying for the next election.  
‘What do you intend doing about it?’ Avon’s tone was almost compassionate, but he was ever practical – and seeking to find his own escape.  
‘I accepted some time ago that I am likely to be a transitional leader, no more, and I will step down as soon as I can.’  
‘And then?’  
Blake sighed. ‘I wish I knew. I am sorry for not speaking before.’  
‘Wishes rarely get anyone anywhere. I did see you as a short-term leader – but I did not expect you to quit so soon.’ Avon had insisted on an “escape clause” for the President in the new constitution. Blake had joked that it was Avon’s natural tendency to include a get-out clause – but had it been designed for Blake himself? ‘I do not regret making you President – and if you are determined to leave it is best you go when you choose to do so. One thing I ask of you. Wait until you have a suitable successor, or due arrangements for selecting one have been made.’ It would be all too easy for the regional groupings to become distinct entities otherwise. Someone was needed to keep the emergent Zukans of what had been the Federation in check. ‘The time of the administrators will come – and one can already identify who they might be.’  
Blake indicated assent. ‘I wish,’ he said, ‘I had had the courage to speak earlier. And these past few months I have treated you and the others badly. I am sorry about that. I wish I could give you a better reward after all you have done.’  
‘I have achieved more of a place in history than I ever expected, or wanted. And I am now free to explore.’  
‘Whatever else has passed between us Avon – I said once I trusted you from the very beginning. I still do.’  
‘I could have been led to doubt that recently,’ Avon said, ‘but I believe you.’  
‘My weakness rather than yours. By choosing to stay with me, working for my cause – however reluctantly you gave it your support – you went to some interesting and unexpected places.’  
‘I rarely regretted staying on the Liberator – and organising the revolution was a challenge.’ Avon admitted, his tone friendly again. Blake suddenly realised they were saying their farewells, even if they did not part for a while. ‘And you are wrong that I never supported your cause. There was, is, some merit to it. Perhaps if I had lived in a system such as is being created, I would never have ended on the London.’  
‘Thank you. Avon – if we meet by chance or design in the future, I hope we can talk and remember the good times.’  
‘Perhaps – or at least talk without anger.’ Avon looked at his watch. ‘It is almost time for the farce to begin.’  
‘One last thing Avon: I think we have been friends.’  
‘Perhaps. I respected you at least some of the time.’ High praise indeed from Avon.  
An official came to lead them outside, to the place of the inauguration. It was strange, Blake thought how, having lived for so long in the domes he now found them almost claustrophobic – and he knew Vila and Avon felt the same.

Blake let his mind drift during the ceremony, until, with a start, he realised he was already composing his resignation speech. He forced himself to think what he would do in office, should he overcome his doubts. He had been uncertain when he had first been on the Liberator, then grown in confidence with experience, so why not here? He did have some ideas of what he would do. He smiled for posterity to the swarm of news cameras and looked at the official delegations, filling up their allotted positions. Apart from dealing with potential separatists, Blake would face a challenge closer to home. What was the best way of handling those in high positions in the military and civil administrations whose skills were still needed but who looked back to the old regime, and who would fight Blake every step of the way?  
He watched Avon nearby, wondered when and where they would meet again. Probably Avon would be waiting unannounced on the ship that would take the then ex-President on a goodwill tour of whatever the Federation had then become. Blake could then resume the negotiating work he had enjoyed so much, and proved so good at. Who would not accept the good offices of an ex-rebel and ex-President in settling a dispute?  
Blake realised he had just decided the role he would want, and turned towards Avon to explain. He became aware that Avon was looking at the last, late arriving, delegation to be seated. Blake followed his gaze.  
‘Servalan!’ Blake said, and she looked at him and smiled. Her delegation, Blake realised was composed of her supporters. He became conscious of his conditioning again. The conditioning related to the past, not to this. He had got this far… he could hold a little longer.  
Servalan approached, and Blake saw that she was aware of his struggle. ‘Yes, Blake. I have come to retrieve what was stolen from me – and which you have taken for yourself.’  
‘You usurped the power yourself – and I have popular support.’ That Blake knew. He was dimly aware of Avon moving closer. Don’t do anything we will both regret hereafter, my friend.  
‘You today, someone else tomorrow. I had military power behind me – what have you Roj Blake?’ she asked mockingly. Somehow she had a weapon in her hand. ‘And this is my power now.’ Some of the news cameras approached. Blake sensed the mood of the crowd change: this was no longer politics as entertainment but drama.  
‘You will initiate a bloodletting – but it may well include your own. And Blake the martyr will be far more dangerous than you will ever understand,’ Avon said, finally stepping between Blake and Servalan. Blake knew he could do nothing to prevent what was about to happen – and that Avon was doing this for the same reasons he had protected Blake on Gauda Prime. The tension between Avon and Servalan was palpable.  
‘What have you achieved Avon?’ Servalan asked. ‘You failed at so much, even to claim the success that is rightfully yours.’ Even Blake, outside the exchange, could sense how she was using her physical attraction in an attempt to manipulate the situation. ‘You could have so much more.’ Even her, was the implication.  
‘You don’t understand Servalan,’ Avon said, emphasising the last word. As the information spread the crowd murmured. Blake could imagine the sound spreading outwards through the viscast relays. Servalan became aware of the noise, half looked behind her, uncertain. Events were not following her plans. Avon continued, ‘I have done things I am proud of. Sometimes the decision to walk away from one’s achievements when one has fulfilled one’s duty is the greatest success of all.’ Was Avon referring to himself or to Blake? ‘You and the Federation you served are history.’  
The Federation created us all, Blake thought, and perhaps we are all now in history rather than in the present. The conditioning I am now trying to fight so hard was a product of that past. Avon asked me to wait for a successor before I left, so I will – let others carry through the victory, create their own history.  
‘But I can still destroy what you have tried to create. Consider what we can do together Avon.’ Servalan’s gun wavered. What did she want?  
Blake sensed Avon relax as he accepted the decision he had made. ‘I have made my decision. I refuse you and what you represent Servalan. I choose to go with Blake.’  
The shot was surprising and expected, shattering the conditioning restraining Blake. Avon staggered and Blake reached out to catch him, remembered the scene on Gauda Prime. The world contracted to the two of them, Avon and himself. Blake was dimly aware of Servalan, stunned and silent by what she had done, being swallowed by the crowd that surged through the guards. Blake neither knew nor cared what justice the mob would impose on her.  
‘No, Avon, please.’ Tears were burning his eyes.  
‘I did what I must,’ Avon whispered  
‘I know – I am grateful for that all you did.’  
‘I know … Not your fault … So many dreams…’ Blake had never thought of Avon as a dreamer, but to achieve what he did required something out of the ordinary.  
‘Yours or mine?’  
‘Ours, friend.’ Avon smiled. ‘Look to the future, remember the good times.’ Blake nodded, yielded to those around him. There was no escape from duty now. Nothing he would ever do could substitute for what Avon had just done.  
Blake was aware of Avon’s blood on his hands, and looked up, acknowledging the bleak future that was now his.

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly reworked version of a story that appeared in Chronicles 66/67
> 
> Danya, Soolin and the others do survive, just do not make appearances in this story.


End file.
